


[cue the violins]

by oceanofchaos



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Accidental Mates, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Crack, Fluff and Crack, Friendship, Gen, Not!Fic, Platonic Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-23 13:11:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6117496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oceanofchaos/pseuds/oceanofchaos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Allison and Scott have been really working hard at being friends to each other, which is just starting to go really well. It's honestly not their fault that their kind of fun, cute, friendship bonding activities have such a different meaning in fairy...</p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>  <i> They had breakfast first, idly chatting about history homework, before warming up for their run.</i></p><p>  <i>"You're so slow!" laughed Allison, as she jumped over a fallen tree that hasn't had anyone killed on it in at least two months. "I thought your True Alpha Powers at least gave you speed?"</i></p><p>  <i>"Oh shove it," grinned Scott, backflipping over the same tree (to Allison's snort of derision), "Like you aren't using your True Huntress Powers anyway."</i></p><p>  <i>"I don't know what you mean," she smiled.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	[cue the violins]

**Author's Note:**

  * For [candyvan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/candyvan/gifts).



> this was once upon a time an askbox fic of which a section got eaten, and by once i mean literally in 2014. uh, my bad?
> 
> it is now officially posted for taylor candy's birthday because apparently this is the year where i give her bits of writing i already owed her??

The thing is. The thing is that Scott and Allison aren't even going out. He's maybe sort of something with Kira, and she's been on the verge of not-actually-hate sex with Isaac for a while now, and Erica has told Literally Everyone that she's confident that it was Allison she saw making out with Braeden last Tuesday. Maybe it was, but Ally's not the type to kiss and tell, and Lydia will only smile mysteriously if asked. Whatever. The point is, they are very much not dating. They could even be considered friends these days. (Lydia, Stiles, stop scoffing! Shut up! Totally platonic friends!!) They hang out, and go for coffee, and get dinner together, and have other Not Dates. It's fun, it's great. Even if they aren't going out, Scott and Allison are literally going to have a part of each other's lives. They wouldn't know how not to, not properly. Last summer was torture. Allison still teases Scott about getting a tattoo on a weekly basis.

 

—

 

The fact that today's hanging out location is the woods was probably a bad omen, in retrospect. Scott met Allison at the edge of the preserve at 8am. He brought the smoothies, she brought the croissants. They've started jogging together on a regular basis, every other day. Derek joins them on Wednesdays, and Boyd comes every other Friday. Today, however, was a Tuesday, and so it was just them. They had breakfast first, idly chatting about history homework, before warming up for their run.

"You're so slow!" laughed Allison, as she jumped over a fallen tree that hasn't had anyone killed on it in at least two months. "I thought your True Alpha Powers at least gave you speed?" 

"Oh shove it," grinned Scott, backflipping over the same tree (to Allison's snort of derision), "Like you aren't using your True Huntress Powers anyway." 

"I don't know what you mean," she smiled.

 

—

 

All in all, it was a good day. A great day, even. The sun was shining, the woods were lush and green, and nothing had tried to kill them in over a month. Maybe, just maybe, they had all finally found the fabled Balance which Deaton had occasionally hinted obscurely at. ("I don't know, that implies the man knows what he's talking about," said Stiles. "You all know I literally hate to agree with Stiles," started Isaac, "BUT.") 

The Cali weather was still mild, without hitting summer extremes, and Scott and Allison ended up wasting the majority of the day in the preserve. A quick dip in the lake, followed by drying off on the lakeside rocks. A jaunt back to town to pick up ingredients for a picnic, and then said picnic in a meadow of wildflowers.

"How do you even make a daisy chain?" asked Scott. 

"Well we'd need daisies, for a start," teased Allison. Within half an hour they had wildflower crowns carefully braided into their hair. The day passed lazily, idle talk and even idler movements, as the sunshine sunk into their very bones. 

All too soon, evening was drawing in, and they both found themselves reluctant to end the first Really Good Day that either of them had had since they'd been forced to research the word ‘ _kanima'_.

"We could always... Order pizza?" tried Scott. 

"What, like a delivery?" asked Allison, and before he could quickly take that back for being a ridiculous idea, she grinned and admitted, "I was actually just opening the JustEat app on my phone."

It's been a pretty productive day, for all that it's the literal definition of a lazy day. They've really solidified their friendship, Scott feels, and he's gotten great advice on what to do with Kira (which probably should have been weirder than it was). They discussed Lydia's successful adjustment to bansheedom, and Stiles' recovery from possession, and how to be the best possible support and friend for them. They've talked about Chris' readjustment to pseudo-civilian life, and Melissa's total lack of subtlety when it comes to her "secret" relationship with John. They talk techniques for teaching Malia social etiquette, and joke about making them a Hale-mandatory class. They bet on when Erica will realise that Boyd is head over heels for her, and whether Cora will make a move on Heather. They wonder together on exactly how much Danny knows, and wander together through areas of the preserve they have only ever run frantically through before.

 

—

 

They had ordered dough balls, garlic bread, and two bottles of wine with their pizza, and end up perched on the hood of Allison's car with their spread. Scott doesn't really get drunk with people who aren't Stiles or Allison these days, because Stiles is Stiles, and Allison's pretty much the only one he trusts to mix up the correct amount if wolfsbane into the alcohol. 

("No offence, Derek, it really isn't personal. Much.")

The wine is terrible, which is to be expected from an Italian takeaway, and also to be expected from wolfsbane extract, but it seems like a pretty perfect ending to their day, so they get drunker and drunker. 

"This's'riDICulousss," slurs Allison, "'M'not even a lightweight!" 

Scott giggles a bit, "I am even _less_  of'a lightweight AND YET." He slides, sort of dramatically down off the hood, and ends up sprawled across the ground. 

"Well shit." says Allison. "We definitely can't drive."

"We could walk," says Scott, "Sober up a little?" 

"We could just stay up and watch the sunrise?" says Allison.

"Ooh, yeah. Okay, that." says Scott. They chat a little longer about vegetarianism and whether Isaac's doing it for the right reasons. ("Definitely not," said Allison, "Definitely _DEFINITELY_ not." "You don't know that," defended Scott, "There might be another reason, beyond annoying Stiles." "Sure. Annoying _Derek_.") 

"We could always do both?" says Scott. 

"What?" asks Allison.

"A walk and the sunrise," says Scott, "We could do both." 

"Oh," says Allison, "Good idea, actually. We could walk up to the cliff top, get a better view." 

They gather themselves together, and go for a walk. In the woods. At night. They really, truly, ought to have known better. After accidentally walking through two streams, and nearly ending up in someone's back garden, they make their way to a clearing they have never seen before. Probably. 

"This whole fucking wood looks the same." 

"Right?!" 

A general consensus is reached that this was harder work than it should have been, and they are both a bit sleepy and tipsy, and really a quick break is the only way forward. Besides, the sun won't rise for at least an hour. 

"Check it out," says Scott, "How cool is this circle?" 

"What circle," says Allison, plonking down into the middle of the circle, and deeply regretting suggesting they stay up all night. Maybe naptime would be a good idea. 

"This mushroom circle," he says.

He joins her in the circle. They sit next to each other, leaning on each other's shoulders.

"It is pretty cool," agrees Allison, tiredly. "I'm really glad we got to this point," 

Scott says quietly. "I wasn't sure we would." 

"I hoped," admits Allison, "I really, really hoped." Scott kisses her on the forehead, and she smiles crookedly and leans up to do the same. There is no flash of golden light, or sudden crescendo of violins. They smile softly at each other, instead.

Eventually, they make it up the hill, and sit with dangling legs, as the rising sun washes the whole valley gold and pink. They are both subdued, awed by their day, by the peace which has washed over them. By the exhaustion which has set in. They walk back to Allison's car and Scott's bike, joke tiredly about sleeping for a week. They agree to do this sort of thing more often, just hanging out, you know? Easing into a real friendship, into this new platonic ideal they'd kill to protect.

 

—

 

It's after the second hour of restless, wide eyed frustration, that Allison sits up in bed. 

_please tell me you can't sleep_ , she texts Scott, trying not to bite her nails.

_oh thank god_ , replies Scott, instantly. 

_is it normal not sleeping or?_ , Allison checks, hoping desperately it isn't just her. 

_deaton opens in 15 min_ , sends Scott, which is enough of an answer, quite frankly. Allison sighs, and changes out of her pajamas with reluctance. _i'll pick you up asap_.

 

—

 

“Hmmm,” says Deaton, ominously, “I wonder,” and he trails off.

“Seriously?” asks Stiles exasperatedly, because of course Stiles and Lydia had ended up meeting them at Deaton’s. “Are you actually just trying to piss us off?”

Lydia smirks, but Scott throws him a quelling glance. Allison’s actually kind of inclined to agree with Stiles, because she’s been Done with Alan Deaton for months now, but at the same time she can’t really afford to alienate him right this minute.

“This is a complicated business, Stiles,” intones Deaton placidly, as he gets out yet another container of what appears to be coloured dust.

“Any chance you want to explain what precisely that complicated business is?” asks Lydia, words polite, but tone barely civil. 

Deaton just hums.

Stiles and Lydia roll their eyes in uniform, and Allison can’t help but laugh a little. Scott’s curled up next to her, because they both feel better in near proximity, and also Deaton said that they have to hold hands for the tests to work.

“Seriously,” murmurs Scott under his breath, as Stiles scoffs in disgust at Deaton’s ambiguity, and Lydia starts pointedly critiquing his scientific method, “Fuck the woods.”

“Ha, yeah, right?” agrees Allison, “This is so fucking typical.”

“And to think, you could have just stayed in San Francisco,” teases Scott, and she squeezes his hand lightly.

“Is there any chance you saw a mushroom circle at any point?” asks Deaton suddenly, and Allison and Scott catch each other eyes.

“Ah, um, define ‘saw’,” hesitates Allison, because she noticed exactly how quickly Stiles and Lydia spun around at that.

“As in, maybe, sat down in the centre and napped for a while?” tries Scott, and Deaton nods solemnly.

“Seriously??” asks Stiles wearily, “Have you learnt literally nothing from fairytales?”

“Also, are you saying you were in a mushroom circle at night in the woods in _Beacon Hills_?” demands Lydia, “What, were you _bored_? Do you _miss_ almost certain death??” 

“I think I have it,” says Deaton, cutting over them.

There’s a beat. Stiles’ right eye definitely twitches a little.

“Do you want to _tell us?”_ he threatens. It’s alarming reminiscent of the nogitsune.

“Would I be correct in assuming you had flowers with you?” asks Deaton, and Lydia considers her manicure, as though sizing up whether it’s sharp enough to tear into Deaton.

“Scott wanted to learn how to make daisy chains,” Allison puts forth.

“Of course he did,” say Stiles and Lydia together. They seem more exasperated than seems strictly fair.

“Allison’s a great teacher,” pipes up Scott, and she thinks it might be just to see if they literally snap, because he’s kind of trying not to laugh. “What have flowers got to do with it?”

“Specifically flower crowns?” checks Deaton, and when they nod, he sighs heavily. “You appear to have unwittingly performed an ancient and complex fae ritual of soulbonding. ‘ _Crowned by flowers, united by love, sealed by a fairy circle, with dawn’s rise the bond is made eternal_ ’. Congratulations are in order, I suppose.”

“What.” says Allison.

“No, really, what??” asks Scott.

“I think he means you’re like, fairy-married?” says Stiles incredulously, “Literally only you two could manage this.”

“I think we finally agree, Mr Stilinski,” says Deaton, and he finally sounds as exhausted as the rest of them.

“You got magically soul mated to your ex,” says Lydia thoughtfully, “Of course you did. God, I can’t wait to get out of this town.”

“Hey,” says Allison, “To my friend. Not some ex. My friend.” She looks at Scott, so she doesn’t have to see the others roll their eyes or pretend to gag. Scott’s smile is soft and warm.

“Exactly,” says Scott, “Friends.”

“Touching as this is,” interrupts Deaton, “We should probably discuss the logistics.”

 

_—_

 

"To clarify, this is it forever?" checks Lydia, "There's no divorce equivalent?" 

"Well," says Deaton, pausing long enough to be thinking seriously, "No. No, not really." 

"Well," says Allison, kind of bracingly. If she had to accidentally be forever werewolf married to someone, Scott's the obvious choice. 

"We could do clothes swaps to get around the scent thing?" suggests Scott. 

“Yeah,” agrees Allison, “That sounds reasonable. We can definitely work around this.” She nods decisively, and Scott quirks a smile at her.

"I'm really curious as to how they're going to manage Platonic Friends now," mutters Stiles. 

"Totes," says Lydia.

**Author's Note:**

> extra love to[ the birthday girl ](http://majyyxx.tumblr.com/) for all her patience.
> 
>  
> 
> i'm over at [tumblr](http://islandoforder@tumblr.com/) if you want to ask why this is an actual thing which has happened


End file.
